Home Turf
by Writer With Sprite
Summary: The eldest Tracy sibling thought of his brothers as his own personal property and didn't take to lightly anyone messing with them. What will happen when the Tracy brothers are attacked on their home turf? Alan whump. COMPLETE!
1. Chapter 1

**Home Turf **

The eldest Tracy sibling thought of his brothers as his own personal property and didn't take to lightly anyone messing with them. What will happen when the Tracy brothers are attacked on their home turf? Alan whump.

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><p><em>Dedicated to <strong>PHX<strong>, who gave me permission to use her sentence as part of the summary, and **Criminally Charmed**, who agreed to look this over before I posted. Thanks to you both. This was originality supposed to be a one-shot, but spiraled into two chapters._

_If you like, please R&R! _

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><p>"Alan, what's wrong?" seventeen year old Scott demanded as he hugged his younger brother. Tears were streaking down Alan's face. <em>Where on earth was the babysitter, anyway? <em> He thought with a bitter sigh. At seventeen, Scott Tracy did not need a babysitter. He could have, in fact, been his older sibling's babysitter. But he had been away for a week at summer camp, and the part-time babysitter Jeff had hired had become full time. Their grandmother had quickly volunteered her services, but Jeff hadn't wanted to burden her, insisting that it was okay for his children to have a normal babysitter just once. Scott sighed and dropped his duffle bag to the floor. He'd only just gotten back… and _this _was what he was welcomed with.

Some days he wondered, not selfishly, what his family would do without him.

"I gottttttt hurtttttt," the seven-year-old wailed. Exactly ten years younger than Scott, Alan was guarded and protected by four older loving and caring brothers. Whenever he was hurt, he came rushing to one of them to "heal" them. Luckily, the seven-year-old didn't have too many 'boo-boo's' that couldn't be healed by his trio of older brothers. Scott was surprised that he was here, asking for Scott's help and not Virgil's. The fifteen-year-old had an unhealthy obsession with medicine and was determined to know everything that there was about it.

"I'm sorry, Alan," Scott said. He sighed, wishing that Alan was slightly older and that he didn't have to deal with every scraped knee. Still, he wouldn't trade his job of 'big brother' for the world. "Let me see, okay?"

"No!" Alan said, recoiling backwards faster than if Scott had slapped him in his face. Scott was stunned by Alan's reaction, and he was sure it was clearly visible on his face. "I don't _want_ you to see!"

The tone of voice that Alan was using set off alarm bells in Scott's head. Why was Alan acting like this? Although Scott didn't want to be hero-worshiped 24/7 as Alan had so bluntly done before, he did need to know what was wrong.

"Alan, it's okay," Scott said, attempting to be soothing. "I just need to know what hurts so that I can make it all better." If he'd just gotten home, chances were high that Virgil already knew what was bugging Alan, and he would be here…

… in less than five seconds. Virgil's figure appeared, and Scott could tell from the look on his face that he looked extremely frustrated. In fact, pissed off would probably be a better way to describe it. But best not to say that to the teen now. Especially in front of Alan. Scott smiled to himself, thinking of the last time twelve-year-old Gordon had let loose an expletive in front of his youngest brother. He hadn't done that since. "Alan!" Virgil said, throwing up his hands, clearly exasperated. The fifteen-year-old looked murderous. "I didn't know where you went!"

"You can't touch me!" Alan screeched as he flung himself into Scott and started crying.

Scott shot a look at Virgil, one that he hoped stated, _'Explain. Now.'_ Virgil just shrugged; he was as clueless as Scott was, if not more. He had hoped that Alan would come clean to his injuries about Scott, and then Scott could do something about it.

In Virgil's mind, Scott could be a little over protective; he thought his brothers were his own personal property and didn't take highly to anyone messing with them. In fact, someone had beaten Gordon up on the school playground the last month. When the teachers didn't intervene, Gordon dreaded going to school for about a week.

When Scott came to pick up Gordon and saw him getting bullied in the hallway, he'd very nearly sent the other boy to the hospital and almost gotten expelled from school. Luckily, the teachers had broken up the fight just in time, listened to Scott's side of the story, and ended up transferring the other youngster to another school district where he would be under closer supervision by the teachers there. He'd already had a few incidents in the school, and Scott and Gordon were both glad to see him gone.

Virgil wanted Scott to swoop in and save the problem today - _now _- before he ax-murdered Alan with his own two bare hands. The alarm bells ringing in Virgil's head did nothing to ease his anxiety. Why wasn't Alan being forthcoming about his injuries? He always had been before. That lead Virgil – and probably Scott too – to think it was something more serious.

After a minute, Alan calmed down, gulping tears. "He hitted me! And he tolded me that I was only good f'r money! And… and… he said you didn't want me, Scotty!"

_Oh_. So that was the problem. Someone had told Alan that his hero didn't want him anymore. _Who_ had hit Alan, though? That was the million-dollar question. Virgil certainly hadn't, and John, a full year older, wouldn't have either, even if Alan had been on his nerves all afternoon. That left twelve-year-old Gordon, and Virgil knew that while the redhead had a temper, he never would have said what Alan had repeated… or at least he hoped.

The darkening look on Scott's face clearly showed that a storm was brewing. Someone had hurt _his _little brother. Probably his favorite little brother too. Virgil knew Scott loved them all but had a feeling that he loved Alan the most. At fifteen, Virgil was quite alright with that – he had no desire to be constantly under supervision by Scott, and if Alan gave him a needed distraction, than so be it.

But back to the present. Someone had hurt _his_ little brother. And he was going to find out who had done it. And make them pay.

"They're wrong, buddy," Scott said, lifting Alan's chin up gently as he attempted to encourage the seven-year-old to look at him. Virgil sighed. Even though Scott had spent more time away than at home the past year, he knew he loved his younger brothers. "Who hurt you?" he demanded, his voice slightly sharp. He exhaled slowly, then said, "Allie, can you tell me where it hurts?"

At the use of his favorite nickname, seven-year-old Alan hiccupped, then nodded and lifted up his shirt. Virgil and Scott stared. There was no denying it. Someone had done far more than _hit_ their little brother. There was a large, _shoe-shaped _bruise on his brother's bicep, hidden just under his shirt, as well as a _hand-shaped _bruise on his brother's belly. His face darkening, Scott glared at the bruise as if that would make it magically go away. He sank to his knees and lifted up Alan's left shirt sleeve lightly.

There was another bruise there.

The fact that someone had beaten their barley-seven-year-old brother made Virgil's blood boil. Scott spoke, snapping Virgil out of his thoughts. "Call Dad," he ordered, "_now_."

Virgil nodded and started to leave, but Alan stopped him. Tears were running down his cheeks. "He saided you'd be mad and you wouldn't love me if you found out!"

Another dark look was exchanged between the two older brothers. "Who, Alan?" Scott said. He gently wrapped his brother in a protective hug. Someone had beaten his baby brother… and there would be hell to pay…

"M-m-mat-thew!" Alan sobbed. He flung himself into Scott's shoulders once more.

Scott glanced up at Virgil, his mouth agape. The babysitter that had been watching the four youngest brothers all week had beaten Alan? Jeff had said he'd picked someone with only the highest recommendations and who had a track record of care. That had allowed Scott to mentally relax while at camp. Coming back and finding his baby brother beaten, quite possibly on his home turf, made Scott's blood temperature raise quite a few notches.

"Call Dad. We need him here, A.S.A.P.," Scott said. He ran a reassuring hand through Alan's hair. "We may need to take Sprout to the hospital."

"No!" Alan said, his eyes as wide as dinner plates. "He said he'd hurt you if I told anyone, Scotty!"

"Matthew said that?" a dark look of murder fell across Scott's face. If looks could kill, Virgil would have been an unintended victim of Scott.

Alan sniffled and nodded miserably into Scott's shoulder. Scott could feel the tears that Alan had been keeping carefully guarded drip onto his shirt.

"When did he hurt you?" Virgil asked, looking at his youngest brother. They needed to know this information. Then they needed to get Matthew the hell out of their house – _now – before _he hurt anyone else.

"Why, that was yesterday's injury," a new voice spoke up. Virgil froze at the tone of Matthew's voice. Scott dropped Alan's shirt, which read _Property of Scott_ on it, and turned to face the man – who was holding a gun to Gordon's head.

"Now that the five of you are home," he said with an evil laugh, "it's time to get my _real_ paycheck. Tell me Scott, how much do you think your father would pay to get all of you back? I mean, he has been away at a conference all this time… I don't think he cares about you, do you?"

Scott's teeth clenched as he gently wrapped his arms around Alan. "Let Gordon go, and I'll go with you and cooperate," Scott said. He wouldn't put his brothers in harm's way. "My father will hunt you down, you sadistic -"

"Now, now," the man said, kicking Scott's leg. Scott shifted his leg out of the way, and the man backed up just a little bit. "Your father hired me to watch you because he's known you for a long time. But he doesn't know that I just wanted the paycheck. Now that you're home, Scott, my money-collecting can begin." He smirked. "Here's what we're going to do, and if you want the Fish to live, you will shut up and listen to me…"

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><p>Jeff exhaled slowly. He was very tired, having just returned home from a conference that had taken way too long. The dinner had gone on two hours longer than it was supposed too, and while he enjoyed a week-long conference once a year, he needed to see his family.<p>

There was a gnawing feeling in his stomach, screaming at him that he'd done something wrong. Jeff couldn't really place it, but he knew it was there. He sighed as he picked up his phone and dialed Scott.

No answer. He'd strictly informed his youngest that the _second _hegot home, he was to call Jeff – but there seemed to be nothing, no missed calls, and Jeff's eldest had been due when the dinner was scheduled to end.

Scott was three hours late calling in. That didn't bode well with Jeff. If it was Gordon or Virgil or John he probably would have been less worried, they had forgotten to check in on occasion, but Jeff couldn't shake his feeling of worry.

"How far are we now?" he asked his assistant, Ann-Marie. She smiled and checked her watch and the flight plans. She was a pleasant woman, extremely responsible, who had been his lead secretary since _Tracy Enterprises _had started. He smiled as he thought of the raise he planned to give her when she was back on base. She was full of good advice, and had made his trip much more pleasurable. He knew she was struggling a little bit financially, and wanted to make her be able to breathe a little easier when it came to the bills.

"A little under an hour, sir." Ann-Marie smiled. "Anxious to get home?"

"I just have this gnawing feeling in my gut that something's going to go wrong," Jeff muttered with a tired sigh. Ann-Marie, who was also the mother of two children, would no doubt know what he meant. She was the only one in _Tracy Enterprises _that Jeff considered to be able to talk to his feelings about.

"If it would make you feel better, I can check in with your children, sir, and see if they've left any additional messages?" she asked with a smile.

"That would be wonderful, thank you," Jeff said as he took another cup of coffee, taking a light sip. _Why couldn't he shake the feeling that something was going to go wrong_?

Maybe he needed to take his assistant's advice and cut back on the caffeine.

Jeff sighed as he checked his watch. Fifty-five minutes until landing. Maybe his anxiety attack that was threatening to build would stop by then.

_Lucille, _he prayed, _please watch over our boys… _

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><p>"Here's what's going to happen," the man said. The gun that he pointed directly at Gordon's head never wavered. Virgil shivered at the intensity of the man's glare. John, who had quickly come running when Virgil called him, looked stunned. Virgil looked like he felt he had personally betrayed John. Scott would have to assure him that he didn't do anything wrong. "I'm going to let Fish here get down. You're all going to give me your cell phones and any technology you have, iPods included. Then you're all going to pack an overnight bag. Scott, you might have to help Alan. I want you back here in fifteen minutes."<p>

A rough shove spent Gordon sprawling to the ground. John helped him up and looked at Scott. Gordon was shaking.

"Then we're going to leave a nice little note for your father, and we're going to take off. When Jeff pays me my money, you can go home."

"Look," Scott said once, trying to put on a tough front and protect his younger brothers from this maniac, "Dad will personally kill you if you take all five of his boys – please just take me." The look on his face screamed _I'll be good, really!_

The man just offered a sick smile. "No can do. Alan and I need some _bonding time_," he said with a grin.

Alan burst into tears. They cascaded down his cheeks like a river. Scott, being careful not to injure his already-bruised ribs, hugged him tighter.

"Touch him and you die," Scott said furiously.

"Isn't that nice?" the man cooed. His expression darkened. "Wish you could have been my older brother. Mine threw me to the wolves. Oh, John, you might have to get Virgil's bag. He's staying with me was insurance. And don't bother trying to call the police – I've already cut the wires for the phone and the internet."

The Tracy boys, one by one, relinquished their cell phones. Scott sighed as he handed over his cell phone and other electronics. Slowly, not wanting to spook the gunman, Scott got up. Alan refused to let him go, and he clung tightly to Scott's neck, wrapping his legs around Scott's waist. Although Scott normally wanted Alan to walk on his own, he didn't have the heart to put him down now.

"What are we going to do?" John asked Scott. As second oldest, he knew that he and Scott would make every move to protect their younger brothers. Gordon was really shaken up because of the man's surprise attack and John couldn't say he blamed him – they **all **were.

"I don't know," Scott muttered darkly. Alan wrapped around him tighter. "Look, John, leave a note in your bedroom, okay? Let Dad know what's going on? Fish, you're with me. We'll pack up our bags."

John nodded, knowing what Scott meant. The boys had developed a code when a photographer had tried to take off with Alan once. It was to be used only in case of emergency, and this was no doubt an emergency. "Got you," he said, his face darkening. "I'll grab Gordon's bag, too."

"Good," Scott responded.

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><p>The overnight bags had easily been packed, and Scott felt quite pleased that he'd managed to slip his iPod Touch into his bag. He could get wireless internet on there and might be able to slip a message with details to his father. He hoped the man wouldn't notice it in Virgil's bag. It was buried in a compartment, and it wasn't like it was a phone.<p>

The Tracy boys were riding rather uncomfortably in the large van. John was sitting upfront with a man while the other Tracy boys were closer to the back. The man wasn't taking any chances with the Tracy boys. Scott sighed, his face darkening. Then his smile brightened as he remembered the command he'd given Virgil before they'd left the house – maybe there was something they could do. "Virgil, did you get the first aid kit?" he whispered.

Virgil nodded. He always kept it stocked. "Yeah, right here," he said. He knelt down towards Alan. "Can you be quiet for me, Alan?" he asked, his voice a hush whisper as he didn't want to be overheard.

Alan nodded, and much to Scott's surprise, was deathly silent as Virgil checked over his injuries. Virgil sighed; there wasn't much he could do besides given Alan two Tylenol and rub a little bit of cream on his bruises.

"Put it back in the bag," Scott whispered quietly. "We don't want the man knowing we have it."

Virgil nodded as he tucked in the bag. "Yeah, agreed," he responded. He knelt down, tucking it back in Scott's bag. His face flushed as he felt his fingers touch solid metal. "Scott!" he breathed, showing Scott the iPod touch that Scott had packed. Scott had ended up packing it in Virgil's bag. That way, if the man searched the bag and found it, they could say it was a mix-up.

Scott nodded. He pressed his finger to his lips, and then whispered something into Alan's ear. Alan was gently passed into Gordon's lap as Scott fired up his iPod touch. He was able to access wifi in seconds, and within a minute, an email was fired off to their father.

The iPod Touch was put back into their bag like nothing had happened, and Scott accepted Alan back from Gordon's lap. At least, if nothing else, their father would notice something was wrong.

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><p>Jeff sighed as he looked at Ann-Marie. She had been gone for about fifteen minutes, and now she was back with a concerned look on her face. "Sir, I think something is very wrong. I can't get in touch with the boys, and <em>this<em> was in your email account. It's from Scott, sir."

Whenever Ann-Marie resorted to calling him 'Sir' instead of Mr. Tracy, Jeff knew something was wrong. It had almost become a code in the past years that she'd worked for him.

Jeff took her iPhone from her and glanced at the message.

_Dad,_

_Matthews is trouble! I came home from summer camp and found that Alan had been beaten. Matthews admitted to doing it, Dad! Not only that, we're _– the next word was unreadable – _we're in this jerk's car. I don't know were we're going – wait, we just passed an exit sign for New York City! Dad, come find us, he's got a gun! _

Scott hadn't signed off with his name, but the email had been finished.

"Oh, Lord," Jeff breathed, his voice hoarse, "Someone has my boys… Ann-Marie, someone has my boys!"

"Calling the local police immediately, sir. I'll have them on dock when we touch down," Ann-Marie said as she stood up and got on her phone.

"Oh, God," Jeff breathed. Then he re-read the email.

Someone had beaten Alan.

_His seven year old boy._

There would be hell to pay, and Matthew would pay it…

… if it took everything Jeff had.

He'd lost his wife, but he _would not_ loose his boys…

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><p>To be continued - please R&amp;R if you liked! I have the second chapter mostly written and hope to post it either Monday or Tuesday.<p> 


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: So, originally, this was supposed to be a one-shot. However, my muse decided that she had other ideas, and that this was going to be a two-shot. That was yesterday. Today, it's a three-shot with the second chapter complete. I'll have the third up either Wednesday or Thursday (depends on internship). I'd say be mad at my muse, but if you want the next chapter up soon, please don't be mad! I hope you all stay tuned for the last chapter.

Hey, look at it this way: More Alan whump for you all.

Oh, I did include a brief numb3rs scene in here - they are working with the FBI agents handing the case. For those of you who don't know them, just pretend they're any other FBI agents. For those of you who do know them, a nice gift.

Thanks for reading, and please review!

## break ##

The drive to the location they were going was long. Scott had been smacked twice when he wouldn't cooperate with Matthew, leaving the man agitated. Alan had burst into tears at seeing his hero hurt. Their trip to the gas station in an attempt for the kidnapper to fill up the car had gone badly. Gordon had tried to slip away, but the man had caught him and thrown him roughly into the car, causing one of his arms to bleed. He'd peeled away, the tires smoking in the dirt, despite Gordon's screams. Scott could only hope that someone saw something, and notified the police.

The situation that they were in was desperate. Sure, he could escape – or try too – if it was just himself. But how could he do it with four younger brothers, and especially Alan, who hadn't untangled himself from Scott's neck since he got here? Alan was painfully silent, and Scott sighed. Obviously the seven-year-old knew there was some kind of trouble.

Finally, the white van they were riding pulled into a large driveway. Matthew got out, his gun never wavering as he pointed at the boys. He opened John's door. The sixteen-year-old blearily got out, looking absolutely emotionally exhausted. Scott couldn't blame him – after all, Scott had been ready to go to bed since before the day had started, and he was still up and running. He'd been looking forward to a good meal and a good nap at home. No such luck.

Slowly getting out one by one – with the exception of Alan, who still clung to Scott's neck as if his life depended on it – the boys got out. John and Virgil got the overnight bags from the car as they made their way through to the house. The bags were dropped on the floor by order as the man smiled at them.

"Here's how it's going to work," he said. "Your father wanted me to watch you brats for a week, said he'd pay. Well, I'm going to get a _much better_ paycheck than he originally intended. One by one, I'll let you go. I'll be contacting your father shortly. I'll need one of you to take with me when I talk on the phone as my insurance policy," he said with a sick smile.

John and Scott shared looks. "I'll go," Scott said. He would never put any of his brothers in harm's way if there was any possible alternative.

The man smiled, the look on his face absolutely sick. He reached out, tracing Alan's tear-streaked face with his hand. Scott abruptly yanked Alan away and was slapped for his efforts. Alan burst into tears.

"Sure," the man said with a sick smirk, "_if_ you can untangle Alan from your spine. There are two rooms that you boys can share. Fight about who shares what room, I don't care. My wife has some clothes for boys your age already lined up. Oh, and boys, don't bother to try and escape. My friends roam this area, and they'll stop you quicker than you can hit city limits, and there's quite a few traps out there. Kappesh?"

John nodded, drawing Gordon closer as the maniac moved toward him. "Good. Your rooms."

- transition -

Finally, the two boys were settled in their rooms. There were four beds and five brothers. Alan had fallen asleep but had yet to move from Scott's arms, so Scott decided that he and Alan would share a bed. John would also be sharing his room. Virgil and Gordon could share a room.

_How Scott hoped they didn't have to spend the night!_

It was then when he noticed Gordon peeking into his room. The thirteen-year-old swimmer had looked absolutely terrified. While John and Scott could cope and put on a front because they knew they needed to protect the younger boys, Gordon knew exactly how bad it was and had never experienced anything this horrific before. He was really upset. John was currently in his room, trying to calm him down.

Not that there was any remedy for the situation, Scott thought with a tired sigh.

"Any ideas of where we are, Virgil?" Scott asked as he gently laid Alan down on the bed. His headache throbbed, and he knew he'd have a black eye in the morning.

"No," the teenage boy said with a tired and put-on sigh. "I really don't know what to do."

"Look," Scott said, kneeling down in front of Virgil, "I don't know what will happen, Virg, and I'm not going to lie, it's bad. But if for some reason John and I disappear, promise me to look after Gordon and Scott, okay?"

"Why would you disappear?" the fifteen-year-old demanded loudly.

"Shh!" Scott hissed, ducking his head out into the hall. "Look, I don't think it will be a problem. I just want to plan for the worst and hope for the best. And no matter what, don't give up. Promise me?"

Virgil nodded. "Promise."

It was then when the man came into the room and made his way towards Scott. He checked his watch. "Yup, your father should be worried enough. Time to go."

Scott looked reluctant to let go of Alan. The man forcibly grabbed Alan from Scott's arms, waking the seven-year-old, who let out a startled cry. Matthew slapped Alan, not once, but twice, much to Scott's dismay.

"Don't hurt him!" Scott pleaded, only to be shoved into the wall. Matthew dropped Alan to the floor and kicked him in his stomach. The seven-year-old's sobs only grew louder.

"Let's go," Matthew stated darkly, grabbing Scott by his arm so tightly Scott knew he was going to leave a bruise. Scott sent Virgil a look before the two left. He was semi-relieved to see Virgil pick the sobbing Alan up.

Scott's nervousness grew as he moved towards the front door with Matthew. There was a feeling of trepidation that mocked Scott, screaming, _something's going to go wrong, something's going to go wrong, something's going to go wrong. _

- transition -

The phone call hadn't gone well, and Scott came back sporting a bruised arm and a black eye. The man was more furious than ever, and Scott looked absolutely exhausted. The look on John's face darkened. They had get out of there. Alan had finally cried himself to sleep. John wasn't sure if he should be grateful that Alan was asleep or pissed off that the man had hurt him that much.

"Do you know where we are?" he asked Scott as the teen quietly closed the door most of the way to the room.

"No," Scott muttered, the look on his face dark. "He had me tied and blindfolded the whole time."

John traced the bruise on his brother's face. "And what happened here?"

"I pissed him off."

Glancing back at the sleeping Alan, John sighed. "Well – maybe you could send Dad a message on the Touch and let him know we're okay?"

"I don't think we're 'okay'," Scott said tiredly, "but yeah, that will work."

"Wait!" John said, a thought occurring to him. "I have an idea."

"Somehow," Scott said as he watched his brother, "I have a feeling I'm not going to like this."

- transition -

The FBI officers slowly made their way out of the vehicle. FBI officer Colby Granger stopped at the scene, clearly put-off by the blood on the gravel.. "We're positive it was the kidnapper here?" he asked, touching the phone with his gloved hands.

"Yeah, kid made a phone call from this pay phone about twenty minutes ago. His dad used some fancy, high-tech mumbo jumbo to trace it here," Special Agent in Charge Don Eppes responded. He checked his watch. "See that car? What do you want to bet that he dumped the car and switched it out with a new car?"

Colby nodded. "Yeah, let's get Megan on that – she's always been good with security cameras, right? Maybe she can find a car with a new license plate."

"Well, he called twenty minutes ago; probably took off when he hung up." Don Eppes sighed. The normal California Natives weren't used to working in New York. In fact, they _had _come to New York only for a brief training course; but that had been interrupted when Jeff Tracy, the multi-billionaire, had reported all five of his children missing.

The email that they'd gotten from Jeff's eldest, Scott, was absolutely chilling. David, trying to play Devil's Advocate, had wondered if Scott had set up the kidnapping; but that thought had quickly been smashed with a video of Scott not only being forced to speak on a phone but roughly being shoved into a dark black van. Colby's voice broke Don's train of thought.

"That only gives him twenty minutes of escape time," Colby responded. He glanced at Special Agent David Sinclair. "Got something?"

David hung up the phone. "Megan got a car with a license plate on it. The video shows him pulling away with a screaming kid. What do you want to bet that it's this guy? Kid looked like the picture," David added, flashing the most recent picture of seventeen-year-old Scott Tracy.

"Good," Don nodded. He was always happiest when there was a lead. He stripped off his gloves, throwing them into a nearby trash can. "He has to be close by. Let's circle around. If we find the car, we can always get a warrant for this bastard's house, right?"

"Sure," David said with a nod, "if we find him, and if the kid hasn't been shot."

Colby shook his head, waving a dismissive hand at Don's theory. "No. If he wanted to shoot the kid, he would have done so already – or he would have left him where we could have found him."

"He probably knows that Tracy wouldn't pay if any of his kids were hurt," David responded grimly, checking his watch. He picked up his phone. "I'm going to get the NYPD working on tracing that car and everything about it. I know Megan is working on it but they might have recourses we don't." He stepped way from the conversation again.

"You gotta figure, though," Don muttered, "that was pretty damn stupid. Taking all five of the kids? He woulda done better to kidnap one, and then make his getaway. Why did he take all five?"

"Coulda thought that five would have made a bigger impact? Gotten a bigger ransom? He seems to be after money," Colby said. "Although, Tracy's already pissed. Apparently, the youngest boy, Alan, was beaten. The kid is _seven_! _Seven!_"

"Sick," Don muttered, then responded, "Well, at least Tracy's cooperating with us – that makes our job much eaiser."

And then they heard a kid's voice screaming. "No!" the boy's voice suddenly pleaded, making the FBI agents instantly alert. Colby's hand found his gun instantly, and he moved forward, Don advancing. "Don't touch me! Let – me – go – you – stupid –" the kid's head was roughly shoved against the wall, and Don heard a hissed, _I can do anything that I want._

"Let the kid go!" Colby demanded, his voice rising slightly when he recognized the boy. John Tracy. He didn't recognize the man though.

"No, no, this kid is worth money," the man responded.

Don exhaled slowly, glancing at David. It wasn't the same guy who had talked to them on the phone. Another guy? What had happened?

"I was just walkin' in the neighborhood, gettin' ready to get a beer, and looky who I found wondering loose?" the man was slightly drunk and his voice slurred. "Looks like this Tracy kid could get me a million bucks!"

"Does he realize he's talking to FBI agents?" Colby Granger hissed under his breath.

"Probably not, dude's drunker than… never mind," David hissed back. His phone conversation had been finished and his gun was now drawn, taking aim at the man who held the helpless teenage boy. According to the man it was one of the Tracy boys, but from the angle, David couldn't see who it was.

"Look," Don said, laying down his weapon on the ground and stepping forward, "Do me a favor and let that kid go, okay? Then we'll talk about what kind of money we can get for you."

Colby could have sworn the man's eyes shined like dollar signs.

"Sounds… good," he said.

With that, the drunk slumped over, and John Tracy fell out of the man's hands.

- transition -

The FBI agents were still in the danger zone. David had volunteered to ride his SUV and take the other man to FBI lock-up to ask him questions, which left Colby and Don at the scene with the Tracy teenager. "My name is Special Agent Colby Granger," Colby said as he knelt down next to the teen. Colby had always been better with teenagers than Don – probably because he'd actually had a good relationship with his younger siblings at that age. "What's your name?" he asked, even though he already knew.

The teenage boy looked terrified. Don didn't blame him. "J-J-John," he finally stuttered, "J-J-John Tracy."

So they'd found one of the kids alive. Thank God.

"Can you tell me what happened?" Colby asked gently.

John nodded and started to talk.

- transition -

Scott was beyond worried. When John had told him about his plan to slip away and escape he'd protested, saying that he didn't want John to get hurt, but John was having none of it. They had very nearly broken into a fight before Alan had broken into tears and reminded them in a not-so-gentle way to keep their voices down.

_"I mean, Scott, we're not your damn personal property, and you're not the only one who can protect us! I'm sixteen, Scott – I don't know everything, but if you're gone this guy's gonna know in an instant. You're older, it's obvious; if I escape, you can always say I'm using the bathroom or something else and stall him! Or maybe you can pretend Virgil is me or something. But he knows who you are – he's already beat the shit out of you." _

Another time for Alan to burst into tears. Scott sighed. John hadn't meant to hurt Alan, but his tone of voice was making seven-year-old Alan more traumatized than he already was.

Scott hadn't liked the plan, but John wasn't listening to reason. Scott whispered a prayer, saying,

_God, please protect John – _

And then all hell broke loose.


	3. Chapter 3

_Well, here's the third and final chapter of Home Turf. There will be an epilogue to this, but I wanted you all to have this chapter first, so you could know what happened to the boys. My sister found part of my first chapter and said she wanted to know what happened to Alan. She read through both of chapters when I let her, and said she wasn't going to be able to sleep because she didn't know what was going to happen to Alan. You can thank her for having this chapter a bit earlier than usual. __The epilogue should be posted either Thursday or Friday depending on internship/class. _

_One special note. Someone mentioned that Gordon was twelve in one chapter and thirteen in the next. I apologize that I can't find where Gordon said he was thirteen, although if I do I'll change it. Gordon is 12 in this book. _

_Please R&R if you liked this! _

_Thanks to PHX for her line, which is cited in the first chapter. It comes from her book 'Water Pressure.' The Property Of Scott T-Shirt is also PHX's, from the book 'There Are No Virgins Among Us' and I think 'A Very Long Day.' Thanks for Criminally Charmed, who looked over the first chapter for me; and thanks to everyone who reads and reviews! The Hardy Boys do have a guest bit in here also, since I know that some of you also like them. Plus, their part just seemed to fit. ^.^ _

* * *

><p>"Someone's missing," Matthew said anxiously. He was holding his gun, but for a change, it wasn't pointed directly at Scott. Scott used the opportunity to quickly scoop Alan up into his arms, wincing when the seven-year-old stirred in his sleep. "Who's missing?" he demanded.<p>

He ducked his head in the other room, seeing both Gordon and Virgil there. Virgil looked slightly put-off by the man's reappearance, and Scott couldn't bring himself to worry – he was more worried about the man reappearing!

"That's it," the man said, muttering under his breath. He raised his pistol. "Someone's going with me. My wife and I are splitting up; we can't afford to be seen together."

"I'll go with you," Scott volunteered instantly. He had yet to see the man's wife and hoped that she wasn't here, or, better yet, didn't exist. He started to hand off Alan to Virgil, but was stopped by Matthew, who placed a firm hand on his shoulder.

"No," Matthew said, a dangerous glitter in his eyes, "The kid stays with. I don't trust him or you for a second. You come with me."

Scott shot Virgil a look, one that he hoped conveyed, _protect Gordon_. He sighed, there was no time to get his only way of communicating – his iPod touch – out of the corner he'd stashed in. Scott jerked his thumb to his room, hoping Virgil would understand his command.

As he followed Matthew outside, Scott couldn't help but let his mind wander. He hated taking Alan with him; he'd really hoped to leave him behind. Matthew had already resorted to violence against both of them twice.

Scott was roughly shoved into the RV and the door was slammed. Matthew must have pulled himself into the truck that attached to the RV trailer, because the RV took off.

* * *

><p>"John!" Jeff Tracy said, hugging his second-eldest son tightly. He was relieved that the teenager was okay, and more importantly, that one of his children was safe. He glanced up at the agent who was standing next to him. "Thank you, uh..." he glanced at the man, trying to remember his name.<p>

"Colby," the man responded, extending his hand. "Colby Granger. It's no problem, sir."

"Yo, Colby!" Another FBI agent said, walking toward him. "We got a tip from our detective kid's friends in New York. We might have spotted something." He nodded at John. "Glad to see you back safe, kid. We'll get your brothers home, you'll see."

"Does he have brothers?" Jeff asked, looking at Don's retreating form. He couldn't explain why, but he felt like he had heard the man's name somewhere before.

"Yeah," Colby responded, "His brother's Charlie Eppes – you've probably heard of him. I gotta go, though, we got a lead. Maybe we'll have coffee," he responded as he took off, following after his boss.

Jeff couldn't complain. The team had worked without sleep trying to find his boys - one of the best teams he'd ever worked with.

"Hey, John," another man said. He was also an FBI agent, his badge on his jacket proved it. "My name's David Sinclair. Can I ask you a few questions about what happened?"

John looked at his father, and then nodded slowly. Although John was normally not the clingy type, he didn't want to leave his father right now. He, too, was terrified about his brothers. Scott and Alan hadn't been treated well this far, who knew what hell they'd put through when the man found out he'd escaped?

"It's okay," David responded. "We can just talk here. I just wanted to ask you a few questions. We can use the information to help your brothers, okay?"

John just nodded. Jeff sighed. He was grateful that John was back safe, but he couldn't help but be worried about his other boys, too.

* * *

><p>The two teenage boys had been walking in their friend's trailer park when they'd heard the scream. Always curious about investigating a ruckus, they had gone over and followed the noise they'd heard. They had returned in time to see someone being shoved into a truck.<p>

Joseph Hardy, the youngest of the two boys, had wanted to take after the truck, but Frank Hardy, the oldest, had stopped him. "Look!" Frank had said, hissing as he pointed to the side of the yard. "There's blood. Joe, someone might be hurt."

The seventeen-year-old boy glanced at his eighteen-year-old brother as if he had three heads. "Yeah, Frank, I know what blood means. It's what flows through your veins and—"

"Shove it, Joe," Frank said, clamping his hands over Joe's mouth as they heard the wail yet again. Cautiously, the two boys moved forward.

"Hey!" Joe responded, moving toward the man. He signaled for Frank to attack the other man from behind. There was a teenager - probably not much older than thirteen - lying on the ground being attacked by someone much, much older. The teen was lying on the ground, trying to defend himself, but not having much luck. "What's wrong with you? Let him go!" Joe demanded, moving forward.

The man whipped around. This had been the "wife" that Matthew had mentioned – not much of a 'wife' at all, but a good cover story, at least that's what Matthews had thought. Now the man was pissed – Matthew was leaving him here to take the fall for kidnapping Tracy's kids.

And there was no way in hell he was going to take that without having a little entertainment of his own. So what if the wuss he was attacking couldn't handle being kicked a few times? It wasn't James fault the teenager was raised protected.

"Get out of my yard," James said, moving towards Joe and away from Gordon, which had been Joe's plan all along. "I can arrest you for trespassing!"

"Oh, yeah?" Joe shot back, seeing Frank move in closer to the teenager. "I can arrest you on charges of child abuse. Tell me, asshole – which one do you think will stand up more in court?"

With that, the man launched towards Joe, and Frank used the opportunity to lift the teenager out of harm's way. "What's your name?" Frank asked quietly, eyeing Joe, who was using every tactic he knew how to avoid the fight that looked like it was about to start.

"G-G-Gordon Tracy," the teenager finally said, a tear streaking down his face. "I d-d-don't want to be here."

Frank didn't blame him. He didn't want to be here, either. Speaking of which… "Joe, let the nice man live," he said as he made his way over to his brother, who was sitting on the man. Frank took off his belt and used it to tie the man's hands.

"Now we get some answers," Joe grumbled, "about why we missed our lunch."

* * *

><p>Gordon had sobbed out the whole story to Frank as Joe had waited for the man to be picked up by the local police. Apparently, he was the son of Jeff Tracy – who that was, Joe didn't know - and he and his brothers had been kidnapped earlier that day. When his older brother had escaped, the man who had kidnapped them – Matthew something – had been "downright pissed". He'd taken off with two of Gordon's brothers, but according to Gordon, there was still one brother in the house.<p>

Frank had shot Joe a look, which Joe took to mean '_stay with the kid'_, and went inside the house.

"So," Joe said, trying to make conversation with Gordon, who appeared shaken, "You said you have four brothers?"

Gordon nodded. He swallowed hard and used his shirt to dry his tears. Virgil would never let him live it down if he was seen crying. Then again, maybe given the circumstances of the day… "Yeah," Gordon said, "Scott's the oldest. He's seventeen. Then there's John. He's sixteen. Virgil's fifteen, I'm twelve and Alan's seven." Gordon sniffled, and then said, "Almost eight," as an afterthought.

"Wow," Joe said, his eyes wide, "And I thought I had it bad by having one older brother!"

That got Gordon to laugh, very much Joe's intention. Frank, having come out of those words with another teen in tow, said, "Yeah, but Joe, without me, who would be there to bail you out of trouble?"

Gordon looked from Frank to Joe. Joe seemed to be contemplating what Frank had said. "Yeah, well, there is that." It was then when the police car pulled up. "Come on, you two," Joe said, "Let's get you home."

It was then when Virgil noticed his brother for the first time. "Gordon!" he said, noticing the boy's injuries. "You're safe! Can I help you with your arm? It looks—"

"_No_!" Gordon said, remembering the last time that Virgil had attempted to help him with first aid. "Not after last time, your 'remedy' made me sicker than I already was!"

"Hey, not fair. I was experimenting! All great doctors make mistakes."

"Yeah, but not on me!"

Frank and Joe smiled. The two boys would get back to normal, despite what they'd been through.

* * *

><p>Scott couldn't tell what time of day it was when he felt the trailer stop moving. He didn't really care. Right now, his priority was Alan. The seven-year-old had been injured, and Scott was trying to see what he could do to calm him down. Scott couldn't really do much with the physical injuries until he got Alan to a hospital, which he fully intended to do. He was hoping to see the full extent of Alan's injuries, which he couldn't do until Alan calmed down.<p>

"It's okay, Alan," Scott said, tenderly wrapping his younger brother in a hug. He felt the sobs come down like raindrops and he knew Alan was more stressed out than he was. Finally, the youngster seemed to be dried out of tears, and he clung quietly to Scott's chest.

"Want to tell me about it?"Scott whispered. He didn't know if this would work with Alan yet or not. It had seemed to work with all of his other brothers so far, though, so there was hope.

"He… I… hate him!" Alan said, bursting into tears. "He's mean! And he hitted me! And you! And I want to go home!"

Scott knew exactly how Alan was feeling, especially on the _I want to go home part_. Although he had a few more choice words that he could have used for the man that was holding them captive other than 'mean.' _It takes a really stupid man to take on the Tracys… _Scott thought, bitterly hoping that his other younger brothers weren't in peril.

"This is the FBI, Matthews! Open up!" A voice demanded. Scott glanced at Alan, who was startled by the loud noise, and he burst into tears. Suddenly, Scott wished very much that he had been dealing with a scraped knee.

_God, if you get us out of this, I promise I'll never complain about Alan's scraped knees again, _Scott thought as he heard a shot fire out. The next thing he knew, the door opened. He wrapped his arms around Alan protectively, not wanting to let him go.

"Scott?" one of the FBI men demanded. He had brown hair and was chewing bubble gum. "Scott Tracy?"

Scott could only nod numbly, thinking, _this is the FBI, we're safe, we're going to go home._

"Alan Tracy with you too?" the man asked as he used his flashlight to do a quick scan of the RV trailer perimeter.

"He's my brother," Scott responded, "and he's right here. My brothers? Are my brothers okay –"

"Yeah, it's okay, kid. We have them," the man said. He knelt down next to Scott. "My name's Don. Don Eppes. I'm with the FBI. You're safe, kid."

Normally, Scott would have protested about being called 'Kid', but at the moment he didn't care. He was safe and that was what mattered. But – "Matthews?" he asked.

"Won't be bothering anyone anytime soon," Don muttered as he helped Scott up. "I can take him, unless you want too…"

Scott glanced at Alan, who had just fallen asleep in his arms. "He ain't heavy," Scott said, "he's my brother."

Don put his arm on Scott's shoulder. "I understand, Kid. Let's go see your Dad, huh?"

* * *

><p>So, our boys are out of hot water - for now until my next piece, anyway. But how will the reunion go? Look for a posting about Thursday or Friday.<p> 


	4. Chapter 4

Home Turf

Epilogue

_A/N: Well, here's the end! One chapter spanned to four chapters! Thanks to everyone who read and reviewed. _

* * *

><p>Alan had been checked out at the local hospital and had been deemed to be fine. Jeff had instantly come rushing to Scott and Alan's rescue and had been at the hospital almost before they'd arrived. Scott had been deemed fine and given painkillers, much to his protest. Alan had to have his arm in a cast because Matthew and Matthew's "wife" had injured his friend so badly.<p>

Scott had gotten to personally thank the two teenagers who had rescued Gordon and Virgil. They seemed nice. Their father was a private eye – someone named Fenton Hardy – who had raised two very responsible teens.

Scott chuckled mildly, thinking about the reward his father had given the two boys. It had been sufficient enough to pay for both of their college expenses that was for sure. The father had been stunned at the amount. He and his wife made more than enough, but they were struggling slightly. He'd taken one look at the check and tried to deny it, but Jeff had said that if he wouldn't take it, then he could put it in a savings account so the boys could have their school paid for. Joe had been really happy at that – apparently he didn't think he had as much chance as getting a scholarship as his brother Frank did. Frank was apparently an academic genius.

They were getting together for lunch with the Hardy Boys in a few weeks. Scott couldn't wait.

Things were mostly coming together, but the effects of the kidnapping were still shown. Alan cried himself to sleep at night and refused to be away from Scott for more than a few hours. He'd resorted to sleeping next to Scott's bed, and if for some reason Scott wasn't there, he would collapse wherever Scott was. Scott had finally just started going to bed at the same time as Alan.

Although Jeff had hired a psychologist to talk to Alan, the seven-year-old still was having nightmares.

Like he was having now. Sighing, Scott got up and gently held Alan, rocking him back and forth in his bed gently, being careful of Alan's injuries. Finally, Alan woke up, and looked startled. "Scotty?" he asked, breathing a sigh of relief.

"It's me, baby," Scott said, affectionately ruffling his hair. "I'm here." Scott paused. "What happened?"

"I was back at the bad place, Scott." Tears started to trickle down Alan's cheeks and Scott sighed, thanking God that Jeff was a good father. He wondered mildly what would have happened if they'd been stuck with an abusive father and decided not to think about it. "The man said that you didn't love me."

"Oh, Alan," Scott said, wrapping his arms around his brother once more, "The man lied. He was a bad man. I will always love you."

"But he said I was only good for money!" tears streaked down Alan's cheeks once more and Scott swallowed hard. He needed to talk with his father, but for now there was one way of dealing with it.

"Listen, Alan," Scott said, gently pulling Alan into his lap, "The man was lying. He only wanted money from Dad. He was a very, very bad man. Do you understand that?"

Alan nodded. "And mean," he added helpfully as he attempted to dry his tears.

"And he said some very mean things to try and make you listen to him," Scott responded. "Did you like what he said?"

"No!" Alan said, rolling his eyes as if Scott was stupid for suggesting such a thing. "He was mean!"

"He was trying to hurt your feelings, Alan." Scott paused. "Don't listen to him. He's a big bully. I will always love you, Alan… Always," he added.

Alan nodded seriously. "Do you brother promise?" he asked.

Scott raised his eyebrow.

"Jimmy said at school the other day that if a brother made a promise they could always take it back, unless it was a brother promise. So is it a brother promise?" Alan asked.

_Kind of seems like the forever promise that Gordon's friend Trevor mentioned_… "Of course," Scott responded, nodding seriously. "It's a brother promise."

Alan nodded.

"Now," Scott responded, knowing that they still weren't quite finished, "Who are you going to listen too: some old man who wants to hurt your feelings or your awesome big brother?"

"My Scotty!" Alan said, and Scott breathed a sigh of relief as Alan offered him a hug. Things were starting to get back to normal.

Or as normal as they ever could be in the Tracy household.

* * *

><p><em>AN: If you can, please take a minute to hit the review button and let me know what you think. This is my first longer length in cannon Tracy fiction. If you liked this, you might check out "Silent Boy," which is Alan wump also. Stay tuned also for a Thunderbirds fic on the way that will contain both Scott and Alan whump - "Rough Landings."_

Thanks for the reviews!


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